Kathryn Le Veque (5 page)

He nodded and swallowed. She
popped the second and last piece into his mouth, squealing when he pretended to
bite her fingers. Giggling like a little girl, she ate her own portion
happily.
 
Roane tried not to stare at
her, for she grew more lovely and enchanting by the moment. Had he not been
concerned with his present situation, he would have realized he was completely
smitten with her. Maybe it was because he had been so out of touch for the past
three years, but maybe not; she would have enchanted him in a room full of
enchantresses.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said as
he chewed, “that we are in a precarious situation.”

She swung her legs in rhythm with
her jaw munching the bread.
“
We?”

He cast
her a
sidelong glance.
“Of course.
You have gotten me into
this mess and now I must get us out.”

She stopped chewing and looked at
him with big, sad eyes. “But you just said….”

He gave her such an exaggerated
expression that she knew instantly he was jesting with her. “I know what I
said, you little troublemaker. I can see that this situation, and you, will be
the supreme test of my cunning abilities.”

She finished her bread and
brushed off her hands. “I’ve always been a troublemaker. You may as well know
that.”

He eyed her with overstated
wariness.
“Since when?”

“Since my mother died giving
birth to me.”

He sobered dramatically.
 
“My mother died in childbirth as well.”

“With you?

“Giving birth to my younger
sister, who also perished,” he said. “I vowed at that moment that if I ever
married, my wife would never have children. I would not want to burden her with
my child only to see her die an agonizing death.”

Alisanne was silent a moment,
listening to the cold wind blow through the thick trees. “But one is married to
perpetuate the family.”

He lifted his big shoulders,
gazing off across the white cloaked land. “I joined the sect of the
Hospitallers of St. John the Baptist when I was twenty-one years of age, a sect
that practices celibacy, so that is something I’ve not had to worry about in
fourteen years.”

Alisanne didn’t know why she felt
a strange sense of disappointment in his statement. “So you will never marry?”

He didn’t reply. He was so still
that Alisanne wondered if he had even heard the question. She was beginning to
regret asking it.

“Since my sect is trying to kill
me, I don’t suppose I need to be loyal to my vows,” he said thoughtfully.
“Marriage would be considered under the right circumstances, I suppose.”

“What circumstances would that
be?”

He turned to look at her. “Why?
Do you want to marry me?”

She blushed so brightly that he
thought her face might explode and he laughed at her. “Alisanne, if there was
one woman in the world I might consider marrying, it would be you. But since
you are already betrothed.…”

“My father only said what he did
because Dodge forced him to,” she insisted. “But if you were to mayhap vanquish
Dodge somehow, then I would be free to marry whomever I choose.”

He was still grinning, lifting an
eyebrow as he spoke. “Like me?”

She mirrored his jesting
expression. “Are you asking?”

He looked away.
“Never.”

Her smile faded. “I don’t blame
you, of course. No one wants an invalid wife.”

Roane turned sharply to look at
her, noting that she was staring out into the veil of fog. Her brilliant green
eyes were bloodshot and swollen this morn, reminding him of what she had told
him.
I am losing my sight,
she had
said.
 
He’d never once in three years
reconsidered his vow never to use the curse God had given him. But as he stared
at Alisanne, he found himself doing precisely that.

“Are you really losing your
sight, Alisanne?” he asked softly. “Tell me the truth.”

She didn’t say anything for a
moment. Then, when she spoke, it was soft and distant.

“A year ago I began having
trouble with my eyes,” she murmured. “They were very red and everything seemed
blurred, so my father engaged a physic from Worcester to examine my eyes. He
said that I had a disease that would eventually blind me. Since then, my eyes
have grown steadily worse.
 
It is much
better in bright light, and fog like this is… well, everything simply looks
gray.”

“It
is
gray,” he murmured. “It’s fog.”

She looked at him and saw his
gentle smile. He was teasing her again. “Be that as it may,” she lifted an
eyebrow at him, “when Dodge first came to my father’s castle, my eyes were
blistered over with an infection. I get them from time to time. Afraid I had
something contagious that would spread to him and his men, Dodge brought the
same physic from Worcester to examine my eyes, and the man told him everything
about me, including my eventual loss of sight. So Dodge was able to invent the
story to lure you into his trap, and also coerce my father into pledging my
hand to him. It was all very convenient for him.”

Roane’s gaze on her was
steady.
 
He knew, exactly, what he had to
do. “If I could touch you right now, I would heal your eyes.”

She looked at him, astonished.
“What... what do you mean?”

“Exactly
that.”

“But… your
vow!”

“I made it. I can break it.”

She stared back at him, feeling
his sincerity, experiencing a deeper sense of emotion than she had ever known.
“No,” she shook her head slowly. “I would not let you. It would only give your
persecutors more evidence against you. If you perform miracles as they say you
do, then they would surely burn you at the stake for performing another one.”

“You let me worry about that.”

 
“But I could not let you jeopardize yourself
so.”

They were so involved in each
other that
neither one of them saw Dodge and
his men
approach the wagon. Suddenly, a fist pounded into Roane’s face and sent him
falling back against the wagon. Alisanne shrieked as Dodge leapt up on to the
bed for another blow, but she regained her wits in an instant and threw herself
between the bounty hunter and his victim.

“No!” she bellowed. “You’ll not
touch him!”

Dodge paused, but only
momentarily. The look on his face was pure malevolence. “Get out of the way.
He’ll not philander with my intended and get away with it.”

Alisanne threw out her arms to
block Dodge’s advance. “Leave him alone or the next opportunity I have, I’ll
run away and you’ll never have the chance to marry me. No titles, no land, no
castle. Do you comprehend me?”

Dodge’s brown eyes flickered with
indecision. “I’ll tie you up alongside your friend if your threat is serious.”

Her voice grew cold. “Tie me up
and I’ll hang myself with the same rope. Then you’ll surely never have
anything.”

Dodge was a professional man. His
ability to earn a living depended on his cunning, his choices, and how well his
men respected him. He could not have a woman shaming him in any way. Reaching
out, he grabbed her by the hair and slung her roughly off the wagon.

“Take her to my horse,” he
instructed his men. “Tie her hands and make sure she does not escape.”

“Leave her alone, de Vere,” Roane
said steadily. “Your anger is with me.”

Dodge cast him a baleful glare.
“I shall deal with you, have no fear.” He flicked a gloved hand at the men
holding Alisanne. “Take her.”

“De Vere!” Roane boomed; somehow,
in the blink of an eye he had leapt onto his feet and now stood towering over
Dodge. “Harm her and know that these powers I have, this devil-given curse,
shall be fully turned against you and your men. Do you understand me?”

The men holding Alisanne paused,
looking at Dodge for guidance. They certainly didn’t want to be cursed.
 
But Dodge could not risk losing face;
therefore, at the expense of possibly dooming himself, he stood firm against Roane’s
threat.

“Go ahead,” he growled. “Curse
me. But my men are still going to take the lady to my horse, and once you are
delivered to London, I am going to take her back to Kinlet Castle and marry
her. Curse or no curse, there is nothing you can do about it.”

Roane wasn’t about to back down.
“You are mistaken. There is a great deal I can do about it. Are you willing to
take that chance?”

Dodge turned away from him. But
suddenly he swung around and landed a heavy blow into Roane’s abdomen. The man
grunted but didn’t go down. Angered, Dodge shoved him in the jaw and toppled
him to the wagon bed.

“You’ll not curse me, you
bastard,” Dodge growled as he leapt off the wagon. He looked at Alisanne,
gasping at the sight of Roane’s supine body. “He’s already bewitched you,
hasn’t he? Have no doubt I’ll erase him from that pretty head.”

Alisanne snarled at him. “You
couldn’t if you tried.”

Roane heard a sharp sound, like a
slap to a soft, white cheek. Anger such as he had never known filled him. With
incredible agility, he threw himself up to his feet again, only to be met by a
violent blow to the head as one of Dodge’s men came within range.

In a burst of stars, everything
went black.

CHAPTER
FOUR

They stopped
south of Leominster for the night at an inn with no name, but a wooden plaque
over the doorway with a badly carved dragon on it. It was a small, dirty place
with two rooms over the main hall. Dodge had confiscated one room, placing Alisanne
in it with two guards at her door. Of course, he planned on joining her when he
had his fill of ale and wenches.

Alisanne
knew this and the thought terrified her. She couldn’t imagine how she was going
to fight off Dodge were he seriously determined to have her. The room itself
was in horrible condition; every time she sat on the bed, tiny white bugs leapt
onto her. Keeping clear of the lop-sided mattress, there was nowhere to sit
other than the floor, and that had urine covering it in all corners and dirt everywhere
else.
 
She didn’t plan to stay here any
longer than she had to and since the moment of her arrival had been thinking of
a way to escape.

As far as
she knew, Roane was still down in the wagon. She didn’t even know where the
wagon was, only that it was probably somewhere outside.
 
Dodge had whisked her into the tavern before
she saw where his men had deposited themselves for the night and she didn’t
relish the thought of wandering around in the dark looking for him; the longer
she looked, the more likely she was to be caught. But her trepidation was of no
matter; the trip to Leominster had been filled with the sounds of Dodge’s men
abusing Roane and she, riding behind Dodge at the head of the group, had been
helpless to stop them.
 
Now she had to
make her move.

The plan was
obvious. The tiny chamber had a window, but there was a good two story drop to
the wet ground below. It was the only way out, save the door, and Alisanne
forced herself to touch the lice-ridden bed to gain the sheets from it. The old,
stained linen tore easily and she ripped it into strips, tying the strips
together to form a rope.

As she tied,
she kept glancing out the window to make sure no one was guarding her room from
below. Two of Dodge’s dogs were in the hallway; she could hear them pawing and
scratching and laughing at her door. Her sense of urgency grew as she finally
finished the rope and prayed to God that she would be able to descend without
breaking her neck.
 
With a final glance out
the window to make sure all was clear, she secured one end of the rope to the
heavy bead and tossed the other end out.

Her descent
was a nightmare. Halfway down, the bed shifted under her weight and dropped her
several feet as it slid across the floor. The sudden
stop
when it rammed into the wall by the window was enough to snap her off
the rope, and she landed heavily in the mud below. Her wrist was killing her
and her hip was sore, but at least she hadn’t broken anything vital. She was
rather happy that she was in one intact piece. Scrambling up from the mud, she
went in search of Roane.

The night
air was cold and heavy with moisture. In early spring, the scent of new foliage
was pervasive as she moved through the trees surrounding the inn, glancing at
the two or three encampments in the area until she finally realized that the
one she sought was the closest to her. It stood among several birch trees with
a weak fire offering soft illumination into the night. She could see the wagon,
plainly, but she could also see several men milling about. She would have to
wait until they went to sleep, but that also meant the chance of Dodge
discovering her missing greatened. The longer she delayed, the worse the
trouble would be.

The minutes
ticked by with painful slowness. Alisanne was aching and wet and stinky,
smelling herself and wishing fervently she could take a bath and wash her
clothes. So much travel and filth was a terrible thing to a young lady.
 
Dodge’s men finally settled down by the
campfire, several feet away from the wagon, and Alisanne couldn’t wait any
longer.
 
The scattered birch trees would
offer some hiding places and she crawled, trotted and rolled from tree to tree
until she was fairly close to the wagon. The men around the fire were laughing
and drinking and she lay down on her stomach, like a snake, and slithered to
the tired old rig. She lay there underneath it for several moments, making sure
she had not been sighted, before pulling herself onto the bed.

The flat bed
was shielded from view by the wooden sidings. It also made it rather dark and,
with her bad eyes, difficult to see. But she could clearly see a figure on the
slats and she
crept
forward, sick to her stomach that
Dodge’s men had thrashed him so soundly.
 
Alisanne could make out the outline of his head and she reached out to
touch him, only to find his hair wet and sticky.

“Alisanne,”
he suddenly hissed. “Christ, I didn’t know it was you.”

His voice
startled her and she clamped a hand over his mouth. “I’ve come to rescue you,”
she whispered. “Are you well enough to travel?”

His face was
gradually coming into focus as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. “Well
enough. But are you all right? Did Dodge hurt you?”

A warmth
spread over her; he was worrying
about her when he was in far more trouble than she could imagine. “I am fine,”
she said softly. “But we must get out of here.”

“Where is
Dodge?”

“He’s at the
inn,” she said. “Please, there is no time for talk. We must leave!”

He couldn’t
argue that, though the circumstances were fuzzy to him.
 
He wouldn’t know how feasible their escape
was unless he had some facts. “Where are the men who are watching over me?”

“Sitting
around a fire several feet away.”

“How many?”

“Six, I
think.”

“Drinking,
no doubt.”

She
nodded.
 
“They’re all well on their way
to becoming drunk. We can slip away, but we must hurry.”

Roane
wouldn’t argue. He’d already been beaten soundly; if he were to escape and be
captured again, he couldn’t imagine the punishment would be much worse and
suspected he had nothing to lose in an attempt. But Alisanne… the consequences
would be severe for her were she to be found a traitor. She had risked so much
to come to him, to “rescue” him, as she had put it. He had to get her out of
here.

“Untie me,
love,” he said.

She hastily
complied, but with some difficulty. The fact that he had addressed her fondly
made her heart feel strange and fluttery, and her fingers were having a hard
time picking at the knots. But eventually the rope fell away and for several
moments Roane’s hands were useless because the ropes had cut off his
circulation. He feebly rubbed at them, but Alisanne took charged and massaged
them vigorously until some feeling returned. He watched her as she kneaded his
palms, emotions sweeping him that he had never thought to feel.

“You have a
magical touch,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

She blushed
furiously; he could see it even in the dark. Before she could respond, laughter
sounded from the campfire and they instantly stilled. In the warmth of the
moment they had almost forgotten about their perilous situation. Roane peered
out from a hole in the side of the wagon, studying the men in the distance.

“Come on,”
he turned away and grabbed her hand.

Roane was
stiff and dizzy from the position he had been kept in for more than a day, but
he didn’t make a sound nor falter as he lifted Alisanne from the wagon and
swept her off into the trees.
 
They were
clear of the camp and putting more and more distance between them and Dodge’s
men. But they were also on foot, a considerable disadvantage, and Roane knew
they would have to find a horse at some point very soon. They couldn’t run all
the way back to Kinlet Castle.

…
Kinlet Castle?

“Alisanne,”
he said as they ran through a cluster of trees and into a wet clearing, “how
many of
Dodge’s men
hold your father?”

“At least
four,” she panted.

“How many
men does your father have?”

“No men,”
she replied. “We have three servants, though. We provide them with a place to
sleep and food to eat, and they do the domestic work.”

They slowed
their pace as they came to a stream. Roane dropped to his knees and drank
deeply. Washing the blood off his face, he glanced at Alisanne. “We must get to
your father and John Adam before Dodge does,” he said. “In order to do that, we
must travel swiftly. We must find a horse somewhere.”

She looked
puzzled. “But… but you are free now. Why would you go with me to Kinlet
Castle?”

His
expression was a cross between amusement and annoyance.
“Because
you risked your family to help me.
I cannot let anything happen to
them.”

She thought
on that a moment, torn between him being recaptured and the fate of her father
and uncle.
 
But she was very glad he had
offered to help her. “What will you do?”

He shook the
water off his hands and stood up. “I am not sure yet,” he said. “But we must
get to Kinlet immediately.”

He took her
by the hand, his great wet paw closing over her warm fingers.
 
She skipped after him as they headed once
again for the shelter of the trees. “Roane,” she tried one last time; if
something happened to him because of her, she would never forgive herself. “You
have more pressing problems of your own. If Dodge catches you again….”

“He won’t.”

“How can you
say that?”

Roane turned
and winked at her. “I stole his bait.”

***

“You
idiots
!”
Dodge screamed. He was kicking
anything that moved. “Where are they?”

Dodge’s men
cowered like frightened children. It was the middle of the night and they were
all terribly drunk, including Dodge. But he wasn’t so drunk that he didn’t
realize that both of his quarries were missing.
 
He stomped through the embers of the campfire his men had made,
scattering sparks everywhere. As the warmth of the inn blazed in the distance,
Dodge danced around the muddy ground of the encampment like a madman.

“Where are they?”

“Dodge,” one
of his men tried to calm him. “They couldn’t have gotten far. We shall find
‘em!”

“
Argh!”
Dodge shouted in frustration,
swinging his fist at someone who was too slow to move. “Find them and bring
them to me so I can cut de Garr’s heart out and eat it for breakfast!”

His men were
already mounting their horses. The wagon that Roane had been kept in was being
hitched to the team of big heavy oxen that pulled it. They didn’t move fast,
but the man harnessing them would have done anything to redeem himself to
Dodge. He was supposed to have been watching over Roane, but he had fallen
asleep. Stupidly enough, he hadn’t even been drunk.

Dodge would
not be comforted by any amount of apologies or reassurance. He ranted and
raved, kicking and hitting. His men began to scatter and he screamed at them,
furious most of
all that
he had been denied a night
with Alisanne. He had quite been looking forward to exploring her sweet
virginal body, but she had had other ideas. She was cleverer than he gave her
credit for, slipping out of the window by tying sheets together. He blamed
himself for that; he should have kept a closer eye on her. But he fully blamed
his men for allowing her to free de Garr; the man was ruthless and cunning, and
Dodge knew, even in his drunken stupor, that recapturing him would not be easy.

He grabbed a
man on horseback as he raced past him; it was the same man who had assured him
that de Garr and the lady hadn’t gotten far.
 
He was an older man named Peale who had been with Dodge several years.
Dodge knew he was trustworthy and loyal.

“Pick up
their tracks,” he said, struggling to think clearly through the alcohol.
 
“Hunt them down like animals, but don’t hurt
them. Leave that to me.”

Peale nodded
his red head. “Where do ye think they’ll go?
Back to Church
Stretton?”

Dodge shook
his head.
“Imbecile.
They’ll not go back there. If it
were me, I’d go straight to Kinlet Castle.” He scratched his sweaty cheek and
seemed to calm dramatically. In fact, he even smiled after a moment as if
everything was suddenly right in the world. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll
go there and wait for them. Don’t bother picking up their tracks, Peale. I know
exactly where they’re going.”

“Are ye
sure?”

“Of course,”
he said with drunken confidence. “Think on it; Lady de Soulant knows we hold
her father and uncle. We have threatened to harm them if she did not help us.
Wouldn’t your first instinct be to go and help your relatives? Of course it
would. And now she has de Garr, the big idiot, to help her. We shall capture
them both without any additional effort.” He suddenly swung about.
“Hook!”